Ordinary
by Without permission
Summary: Meeting only once in their first year, Scorpius, Albus, and Rose rekindle their lost friendship after five years of avoidance and learn how much the years have changed them. Slash. Albus/Scorpius
1. Sorting

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Summary: Meeting only once in their first year, Scorpius, Albus, and Rose rekindle their lost friendship after five years of avoidance and learn how much the years have changed them. Slash. Albus/Scorpius

A/N: This has probably been overdone a thousand times, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. It's a little rare/freaking hard for me to write regular school life fics without throwing in a little apocalyptic/mystical plot in, but I'll try. Love it. Hate it. I think for now I'll just keep writing it until my hands get bored. Also, it's my first future gen fic so...I hope my characterizations are interesting, or at least likeable.

Enjoy!

…

Chapter One

Sorting

…

It was a strange and warm feeling to hold ones child right after birth. Still gooey and wailing after being slapped in its tiny little butt, eyes screwed shut against the bright lights of the delivery room.

It was even stranger to raise it in methods so unlike traditions. All in the efforts to mold the child into a better person than anyone ever to come from the Malfoy name. A difficult task for someone who's unwillingly been enlightened over the tragedies and disillusionment of war, and an even more difficult task to watch the result of such radical efforts as it grew and developed into someone...

Someone so unlike a Malfoy.

Eleven years since the day he held his only son in his arms fresh out of the womb, Draco found himself standing in the familiar platform with his wife and said boy by his side. And as per usual, everyone was staring and muttering under their breaths behind them. Of course, it wasn't anything _nice_, and it only helped in putting the pressure on him as he departed from his only child.

He took a glance at his wife who held her gaze firmly up ahead to the Hogwarts Express. She wasn't worried about the gossip around her, Draco thought wryly, she was worried about sending off her only child to the big unknown world that was boarding school.

Filled with kids around Scorpius's age.

Kids who probably would prefer to be anywhere but near a Malfoy.

The blond tensed, remembering the hell he had to go through after the war. Switching sides at the last second had given them the clear from getting put in Azkaban, though they were still taken in for questioning. The Aurors never really bothered them as much as before, and because Potter didn't see him as much of a threat anymore, neither did everyone else.

That didn't mean everything was peachy after that. With their last minute betrayal, especially on Narcissa's part, none of their old friends trusted them anymore. They considered them just as bad as the Weasleys.

Because of that, Draco was unable to get Scorpius the friends Lucius had supplied him as a child. Getting him to make friends naturally had been unsuccessful as well since the other side still considered them just as bad as those who were with Voldemort. So the boy grew up alone with not even siblings to play with.

Stranger still, Scorpius was aware of all this yet he still managed to plaster on a wild grin. Draco simply could not understand the boy. Since the day he caught him wrestling baby pythons in the gardens, he grew up with not one Malfoy or Slytherin bone in his body. Draco tried to play it off as succeeding in raising him a better person he ever was, but he couldn't deny it anymore.

The boy was different.

The question he'd been fearing up to this frightening moment of departure was if this new kind of Malfoy would survive Hogwarts.

"Don't worry," Scorpius piped up at him, his neatly combed hair practically glistening in the light. "I'm sure I'll be fine, I survived the Goyle's after all."

Draco mentally winced. Trying to get Scorpius to make friends with the Goyle's was not one of his brightest plans. Gregory still had issues with him regarding Crabbe's untimely demise during the war, so he raised his brats with the same kind of grudge on the Malfoy's. Getting Goyle's big lug of a boy off of Scorpius was a nightmare.

He was proud though that the tiny Scorpius had fought back admirably.

For once in the years he shared his life with his son, Draco truly wished Scorpius wouldn't end up in Slytherin. Tough as he was, he'd get eaten alive. It would be no different if he ended up in Gryffindor.

Hufflepuff people were nice weren't they? He'd be able to make friends and stay out of harm's way.

"Be good," Astoria leaned down and kissed her son on the cheek. A gesture that although induced the usual roll of the eyes from Scorpius, also brought a warm smile to his face.

From the corner of his eye Draco could see the familiar shock of red hair crowded together with a rambunctious group of children. Of course. He'd forgotten all about them.

He turned to face them and caught eyes with his old school rival. They had three children, he noted, one who looked exactly like the eleven year old he attempted to befriend all those years ago. He could see the man's best friend of who knows how many years lean over to his frizzy haired daughter, muttering something in her ear that got his wife to snap at him. Probably something unintelligent about his honor or some other rot.

There was no animosity, no grudge or even irritation he used to feel of them. They were just…people. Exchanging a curt nod with the raven haired man, he turned back to his own family, and his own worries.

"You see that girl with the red frizzy hair?" he muttered to Scorpius, trying not to appear too obvious. Astoria arched an elegant eyebrow at him.

The eleven year old glanced over to the loud family trudging into the train. "Yeah…" he said uncertainly.

"That's the Weasley girl, Rose Weasley, probably inherited her mother's brains, make sure you beat her in every test." He could hear a 'pfft!' from Astoria as she tried to keep from laughing out loud.

"Yes, sir," Scorpius said importantly, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Draco hoped that playfulness wouldn't be cruelly snatched from any possible bullying Scorpius might be put through.

Slytherins wouldn't like him, Gryffindors wouldn't like him. With the school well learned to be against a Malfoy, Scorpius's school life was sure to be hell.

Draco bit his lip, regretting the life choices he made that would result in his son's potentially unhappy future. "Hogwarts is just seven years of education, study hard and it'll all be over soon, don't listen to what others might say about you, or about me or your mother, you're better than them."

Scorpius instantly sobered up. "I know," he said quietly. Once again Draco was stunned at how calm and collected his son was, and only at the age of eleven. He'd always wondered where this side of Scorpius came from. He wasn't like this at his age, and his father definitely wasn't if the old photographs and stories were anything to judge on.

Astoria pulled him into a hug while Draco awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, his nerves too much on end to show any other kind of affection.

"Be sure to write," Astoria nudged him onto the train.

"Every week," Scorpius assured.

His mother looked affronted. "Every_ night!_"

"All right!" he grinned cheekily, pulling his trolley as he waved goodbye to them.

Gryffindor, Slytherin, whatever house or enemies he made, he had better have that same grin on his face when he came back for the holidays. Or Draco was going to bring a world of hurt to the damned school.

…

The train was packed.

As soon as he waved goodbye to his parents and turned around, he dropped the smile. Now that he disarmed his mother and father from worrying about him, he could have all the nerves to himself.

Scorpius wasn't stupid. In the little visits he took to Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley with his parents, the boring functions and irritating family visits, and that one time at an ill planned Hogwarts reunion, Scorpius knew all too well that no one favored hearing the name Malfoy within a hundred yard distance from them.

He understood it was why he was homeschooled, and exactly why there was so much dislike towards his family.

A war he was never even a part of. Two sides as stark as black and white. People he never had the pleasure or displeasure of meeting. They all hated him.

They all hated Malfoy's.

Scorpius couldn't say he was proud or ashamed of his family name. True they sided with a raving lunatic bent on committing the greatest genocide in history, but they did switch the last second even if to save their own hides. And his father wasn't all bad like everyone seemed to think he was. His grandfather was another story…

The eleven year old kept his head low as he swiveled through the throng of animated students, checking for any compartment that might be empty.

He slid the door of the closest one open, unaware of the laughter booming inside until it blasted past him like a hurricane.

Startled, he raised his eyebrows at the group who quickly shut up and looked at him questioningly.

He wasn't sure who they were. They were loud, a mix of red blond and black hair, and they were older than him. Familiarity was screaming at the tip of his tongue when one of them spoke. A boy with a voice that described his personality. A loud and proud prankster.

"What do you want?" he leaned over to get at better look at Scorpius. Not really knowing what else to do, the blond stood his ground, not wanting to give the impression that he could be intimidated. "You're a Malfoy aren't you?"

Scorpius frowned, cursing his trademark blonde hair and pale complexion. "Yes…"

"My dad told me about your father," the boy said conversationally. Scorpius tensed. True he wanted to concede to his fathers wishes and ignore the jabs directed to him. It was going to take a lot to ignore insults to his parents though, and if this boy was going to say something nasty, his nose was going to be well acquainted with his fist. "Says he was a bully when they went to Hogwarts."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes, immediately disliking this person. He could see the other kids behind the boy looking at him with suspicion and curiosity. Unhappy curiosity.

"What my father's done as a kid has nothing to do with me," he said as calmly as possible, earning a look of pure curiosity from the boy, "but if you say anything about him, any little jab, I'll beat the living crap out of you."

The group looked stunned, and for a second Scorpius thought he got his message across until they exploded in laughter. He could feel his cheeks start to turn pink. Of course they wouldn't find his warning much of a threat, they were older, and he was just an eleven year old boy, what harm could he do?

"Oh, that's priceless!" the boy guffawed, wiping a fake tear from his eye, "oh god, beat the crap out of me!" he fell into another wave of laughter. "With your skinny little hands!"

Scorpius eyed them closely. True they were laughing at him, but he couldn't find any nastiness behind their mirth. If he kept to himself well enough, he was pretty sure these people would leave him alone, they didn't seem the type who would bully anyway so there was nothing to worry about. Shaking his head he continued on his hunt for an empty compartment.

"Go on, slither away!" the boy laughed, waving him off, "you're about as Slytherin as they come!"

Slytherin?

Scorpius tried not to look too happy. It was the first time anyone said he was anything Slytherin. He didn't care much for the house, but his family apparently did, and he was aware of how distressed his father was over the slim possibility of him being sorted into the place.

Maybe the chances weren't so slim after all.

He opened the next compartment as the train started moving. What a relief, it was empty.

Pulling his trunk inside, Scorpius eyed the baggage compartment overhead with disdain. He was pretty small for his age, and his trunk was almost as tall as him, not to mention probably twice his weight. How on earth was he to lug the thing overhead?

And back down when the trip ended?

He glared at his trunk before huffing and cracking his knuckles. No way of going around it. He rolled up his sleeves and tried to think of the best way of getting the trunk up. He was too short so…

Grinning, he stood on the edges of both benches. A bit of a stretch considering the distance and the length of his legs. Getting a good footing, he leaned down and grabbed the handle of his trunk and lifted with all his might. Before he left home his mother had cast a light weight charm on it. From what he could gather as he lifted the trunk, it didn't make much of a difference.

Ignoring the screams of protest from his arms, Scorpius tightened his grip and hoisted the bulky thing as best he could, managing to get the corner to hit the edge of the baggage compartment. Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder, his head burning from all the strain. He was pretty sure a vein was pulsing visibly at his temple.

Finally, just was he got one corner of his tremendously heavy trunk to slide in, his strength started to wan and the trunk started to tip over. With miraculous speed, Scorpius grasped the handle off the edge of the baggage compartment and flung his foot up in a powerful kick, hitting the side of the trunk and getting it to slide into place. Unfortunately it dislodged a lot of dust and particles and fell over his face, though he didn't really care at the moment.

"WOO!" Scorpius cheered to himself just as the door slid open. Blinking, the blond looked down at the intruder who looked up at him with bug eyes. He realized he must look like a monkey the way he was hanging from the bars.

"Er…" the boy mumbled, taking a step back. Scorpius flopped down, unsure of what to say. He'd been hoping he could have the compartment to himself. The boy, who seemed about his height, looked familiar.

He had jet black hair, and bright green almond shaped eyes. Scorpius wasn't ignorant to history and the wild gossip going around the train. He could be wrong, there were plenty of people out there with the raven hair green eyed combo, but why did…

He studied his nose and lips. Curvy, but not girly, thin, but not too thin.

Oh. That other boy must have been this one's brother.

Bugger.

"Albus, why are you – oh!" a red hair girl peered in from next to the boy who Scorpius was now wholeheartedly sure was a Potter. Recalling his earlier talk with his father, the girl was Rose Weasley. Said girl's smile dropped when she spotted him. "Oh…"

He recognized that 'oh'. It was one full of disdain and disgust. Scorpius frowned, disliking the girl.

"You've got dirt all over your…well, all over yourself, did you know that?" she arched an eyebrow. The blond looked down at his robes, and indeed the dust he dislodged earlier was now clinging to him like a second skin.

Which reminded him.

He sneezed.

Loudly.

"Er…hi…" the boy, Albus said uncertainly, though there was a hint of amusement in the corner of his lips, "do you mind if we…everyone else is full…"

Scorpius found himself blinking at the two again. "Uh…" he said smartly before backing up to give them room, "sure…I don't mind if you don't…"

Albus smiled toothily in relief, "thanks!" he stepped in, taking his trunk with him. Rose hesitated before following as well. Scorpius watched in fascination as the two worked together in getting their trunks in the baggage compartment with a lot less embarrassing methods than his own. He could tell that although they were happy to get a spot to sit in, that they were still a little nervous around him.

It was only natural. Malfoy's never mix with Potter's or Weasley's. They must be thinking he was going to hex them the minute they had their backs turned to him.

Unable to stand the uncomfortable stares, Scorpius pulled out the charmed handkerchief his mother supplied him with and wiped all the dirt from himself. He busily flattened the invisible wrinkles from his robes once he was done, and finally ended up staring out the window at the open field of farms and cottages.

"I'm Rose Weasley by the way."

He snapped his gaze to the girl in surprise. There was no disgust in her face this time, just a pleasant smile and an outstretched hand. Scorpius hesitantly shook it. Maybe they didn't know who he was after all and her only disgust was him being covered in dust.

"Scorpius," he said cautiously.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," Rose said promptly, stunning the blond, "am I right?"

"Uh…yeah," he clenched his fists, ready for the flurry of insults to start firing at him.

"I'm Albus Potter," the green eyed boy stretched his hand out as well. Scorpius shook it with a growing frown. They weren't saying anything mean. How bizarre.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked curiously, "is it because…" she pointed to herself and Albus, "because I'm a Weasley and he's – "

"No!" Scorpius cut in quickly, "no it's…I thought…because I'm a Malfoy that…well…"

But Rose got the gist of it and shrugged. "My dad always goes on about your family, but my mum always taught me never to judge someone until I got to know them, and you don't seem so bad at all."

Albus nodded in agreement, "yeah, my dad always told me I shouldn't care so much about names anyway, and even though you're a Malfoy, I wouldn't think one would hang up there like a monkey," he pointed with a slight grin to the bars Scorpius had been hanging from earlier.

Scorpius flushed. At least there were two people in the world other than his parents who didn't think he was a rotten spoiled brat.

He settled back in his seat and listened quietly as the two cousins chatted on excitedly about school, occasionally asking for his opinion.

It felt strange talking to kids his age without the threat of fists flying. Really strange.

But also nice.

…

The boat ride across the lake was a peaceful one. Albeit, a little tense. Scorpius was still sitting with Rose and Albus, but he was also sharing the boat with three other boys who didn't find his presence all too pleasing. Rose and Albus didn't seem to notice, being the chatterboxes that they were.

As they entered the majestic castle of the famous school they would be spending seven years of their life in, Scorpius noticed the note of worry coming from Albus.

"But what if I get in? I bet there's loads of people there who'd love to tear me apart!"

"You won't be, didn't you say Uncle Harry was fine with it?"

"It's not just that, I simply won't survive in Slytherin! I'd rather be in Hufflepuff!"

Scorpius bit his lip to keep from laughing. His father was also making recent wishes for him to end up in Hufflepuff if only for his safety.

"If it cheers you up any, I'm pretty sure that in whatever house I end up in, I'll be eaten alive," he told Albus cheerfully. The small boy looked at him with the same bug eyes from before.

"And you're happy!" he squeaked.

Scorpius shrugged. "I'm used to it; this won't be any different, besides if you do end up in Slytherin, there's Slughorn to protect you, I heard he loved your father."

"Well…that's true," Albus mumbled as they walked into the Great Hall. Anymore conversation was momentarily paused as they stared in wonder of the huge crowds of students divided into four tables of the houses they would all be sorted in shortly. Albus gawked as he craned his neck up at the floating candles and the charmed ceiling with its night sky and twinkling stars. Beside him he could see Scorpius do the same thing and wondered how this could be so fascinating to him when he lived in a manor probably more majestic than this.

"Welcome first years," the headmistress's voice carried out throughout the great hall, silencing the general murmur of the crowd. Albus stood on his tiptoes to get a good look at the woman. He'd seen her a few times in his short life. Professor McGonagall. A frighteningly strict woman, yet also kind and courageous. Albus smiled, remembering the last time he saw her, she was helping his father organize a few of his lectures on defense against the dark arts.

As the hat was taken out and placed on the stool, Albus took a glance at Scorpius. He was different from what he expected. He was blonde, pale, and gray eyed like every other Malfoy, but there was something different.

There was no haughtiness, no pretentious air or disgust for the people around him. He stood tall for his short size, but not obnoxiously so. It was…Albus couldn't figure it out. He saw him at the train station and could see the resemblance of father to son, but up close it was the opposite.

His eyes had so many things written in them. Pride, joy, a kind of wildness he could never imagine from a Malfoy…and it was all very quietly compacted behind those gray irises.

Exactly what kind of person was Scorpius?

"When I call out your name, please come up so that you may be sorted," McGonagall announced. Albus whipped his gaze back to the front in shock. He missed the Sorting Hat's song!

"That was an interesting song," Rose said thoughtfully from beside him.

"What did it say?" he asked curiously, kicking himself for oogling at his new friend and not paying attention.

His red haired cousin shrugged. "It said there were waves of change approaching, new bonds that will create house unity."

"Oh," Albus drooped, sad that he missed it. Rose leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"I think it might mean Scorpius."

"What? Why?" he furtively glanced at the blonde who was lazily scratching the side of his nose, oblivious to the two cousins.

"He's so different from what I thought," Rose whispered, "what if he doesn't end up in Slytherin? Or what if the song's hinting some kind of danger to the school or something?" her eyes glittered in excitement. After hearing stories from her parents, Rose had come to Hogwarts not only in the hopes of making his parents proud by being the top student, but also to have unimaginable adventures.

"That's…" Albus tried not the get too excited, he enjoyed the stories too, but he was pretty sure the only adventure they'd have would be the sorting ceremony, then it was just seven years of boring lectures and sleeping in a dorm with a random number of boys. Fun. "I guess…" he shook his head and returned his attention back to the front, waiting nervously as the crowd of students gradually became smaller and smaller. He looked over longingly at the Gryffindor table where the older students loudly welcomed the newcomers. Hopefully he'd be situated somewhere in that table.

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

Albus jumped. He was really having trouble paying attention, already the M's had been reached!

Giving Albus and Rose a small smile, the blond passed through the much smaller crowd of first years and stood before the headmistress. Albus watched as he sat down on the old rickety stool and let the sorting hat be placed over his neat blond hair. He could tell from the looks of all the houses that they weren't pleased with the boy's presence. It made him feel bad for Scorpius.

"SLY…"

There was a long pause that followed. Soon people started murmuring in apprehension. Albus started to worry too. Was the sorting hat broken?

"That. Is. Odd," a boy behind him commented.

"Did the hat die?" his companion asked morbidly.

"I don't think so…I've heard from me mum that whenever Malfoy's are sorted, the hat always yells Slytherin before it even touches their heads. Interesting it didn't this time…"

Albus bit the corner of his lip. True, the hat almost yelled Slytherin, but it stopped half way, why was that?

"My, my," the hat chuckled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

A pause of stunned silence as the startled McGonagall lifted the hat off an unsurprised Scorpius and then the entire hall was in an uproar, mainly from the yelled house table. There were students going red in protest. Albus gulped.

"Toss him over to Slytherin, that's his lot!"

"It's malfunctioning, sort him again!"

"No Malfoy's coming here!"

"He's not going to live to see tomorrow," Rose trembled. Albus nodded numbly.

The Malfoy heir stood up calmly and flashed him a tiny confident grin before walking down to the now very loudly booing Gryffindor table. Albus had to admit as he watched the blond walk to his death bed, the boy had balls. If it were him he'd be cowering behind the stool from all the booing and sneering of the house he'd be sorted in. Scorpius was definitely braver than him.

He watched with a growing pang as his new friend approached his table, but no one moved aside to let him sit. He could hear McGonagall's thundering voice demanding order in the background.

Then Scorpius did something Albus wouldn't expect anyone to do, much less a Malfoy. He was at the end of the table, with no seat to sit on, so he did the only thing that in his mind seemed the most logical to do. He climbed the table and planted himself comfortably. This of course didn't amuse anyone.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall shouted, enraged, "one hundred points from Gryffindor if you don't find a seat!"

At this the table shouted in protest before grudgingly moving aside to make space. Grinning triumphantly, Scorpius sidled off the table and onto a proper seat. It was only then that Albus realized he planned that all along. Strangely cunning like a Slytherin and yet…

"He may be a Malfoy, but he was definitely sorted in the right house," the boy from behind him said with what he imagined was a grin. "Balls of steel, that one."

Albus couldn't agree more. The hall quieted again and the sorting continued.

As student after student filed up to the stool Albus amused himself with the idea of getting sorted in the same house as Scorpius. He was pretty sure Rose would be in Ravenclaw, and in Gryffindor he wouldn't be alone. Then again, did he truly belong in the courageous house?

In the hours he got to know Scorpius, despite his calm disposition, he was under the impression that the blond preferred to be in Slytherin. It's where his entire lineage was sorted; it'd be taboo to break such tradition. But he was sorted in Gryffindor and he sauntered over to the wildly rejecting table as if it were a walk in the park. As if he was okay with where the hat put him because…

Because he belonged there.

Where did Albus belong?

"Albus Potter!"

He almost pissed in his pants. Rose gave him an encouraging smile before slapping him in the back to make him move. Coughing from the force, Albus gave her a glare before walking up to the stool with trembling legs.

The old worn hat was placed on his head, and promptly slipped down to his nose, reminding Albus exactly how tiny he was.

"Oh, another one," the hat said with a chuckle. "Just like your father, I see."

Albus sat up in surprise. Not too long ago his father told him he was almost sorted in Slytherin if he hadn't asked to be in Gryffindor. Could the hat be…

"Hmm…quite difficult like the other one too…you have potential to be a brave lion, but have the calm elements of a Hufflepuff…the intellect of a Ravenclaw, and the ambitions of a Slytherin."

Albus gulped. He could choose to be in Gryffindor…could he really belong there?

"A house is just a name," the hat consoled, reading the boy's inner turmoil, "it doesn't define who you are, but only helps you grow, I merely point those in what I believe to be the right direction."

'What do you think is right for me?' Albus thought glumly.

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" the hat asked seriously, "you are free to choose."

Albus gripped the sides of the stool. It was true, he had a choice.

What if he chose wrong though?

Scorpius had the freedom to choose, but he let the hat choose for him. And although the Gryffindor's weren't fond of the idea, he had no qualms.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

'You choose.'

"All right…" the hat was quiet for a thoughtful moment. Albus bit his lip and scrunched his eyes. "SLYTHERIN!"

It was a repeat from before. As the hat was lifted from his eyes, Albus could see the stunned silence of the student body. He took a few panicked breaths and shakily got off the stool. He noticed the Gryffindor table had frozen in the middle of making space for him, pure shock on their faces, he felt a little guilty about that, especially from the downright shocked look from James's face.

Scorpius looked impressed.

The next second there was screaming once more.

"Sort him again!"

"They'll kill him, put him here in Gryffindor!"

"He doesn't belong in Slytherin, switch him with Malfoy!

"The hat's got it wrong again!"

Didn't belong in Slytherin? Albus looked to the mildly protesting table. There was not much looks of malicious intent from the Slytherins, some were even clapping, through with great frowns of uncertainty.

His legs were still taken over by nerves as he walked to the most disliked house in the school. He almost wished he did make a choice.

Hesitantly, a group of fifth years shuffled aside to make space for him. Albus was dearly glad it was the nicer looking bunch and not the grumpy ones that were glaring at him, though they were all still very intimidating.

"Er…welcome?" a fourth year across from him said awkwardly.

Albus, placed his hands humbly on his lap, "th-thanks," he mumbled.

…

So what did you think? Should I continue?


	2. Sixth Year

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

A/N: okay so I've decided to continue, thanks guys :) updates will be kind of slow though, I'm putting my main focus on my two other fics so until those are completed, this story will be kind of in the back for now. I'm glad you liked my version of Scorpius! I'm still developing Albus though, so his character isn't really shining through yet, neither is Rose's – I'll do my best though, enjoy the new chapter!

…

Chapter Two

Sixth Year

…

It might have been nice to say that after meeting on the train, and bonding for a bit over the sorting ceremony, that Albus, Scorpius, and Rose had become best friends much like the famous golden trio of the last generation.

But it wasn't so.

After getting sorted to their respective houses, they had been split to different parts of the castle. Albus didn't even have the luxury of Rose's company since she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, at the same time breaking the Weasley tradition of Gryffindor's just as Scorpius had of his Slytherin lineage.

What's more was that they didn't share any classes together. Rose and Albus shared at least one class, but Scorpius had to follow a different schedule, always just barely missing them. The two cousin's didn't have to worry about not seeing each other since they were already close friends before school and they were always able to make time for each other, but Scorpius was different.

They only talked to him for one day, they didn't really know him. If meeting up with him between classes was going to be impossible, what was the point in continuing their little friendship?

So they quickly forgot him, as he did them.

And it stayed that way for six years.

…

The day started with a light drizzle and already the blond knew it wasn't going to be a good day. He slipped out of his four poster bed, quietly approaching the nearest window so as not to disturb his sleeping dorm mates.

Along with the drizzle, a fog was settling in, accompanied with foreboding storm clouds crawling towards Hogwarts. Scorpius wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling today would be unlike any other. And he was going to be the center of it.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP YOU TROLL!"

Scorpius jumped in surprise, just barely holding in a scream as the first alarm went off. The owner of the clock stirred and groaned, his tanned hand blindly flying around at his night table to catch the insulting stone gnome.

Gradually all other alarms set off, disturbing the peaceful silence of the bedroom. One by one Scorpius's dorm mates groggily sat up and rubbed the sleep from their eyes, cracking the cricks in their limbs.

"Can't it be Saturday already?" one of them moaned, flopping back in his bed.

Biting back an amused grin, Scorpius gathered his things and left for the bathroom.

…

He woke up to the alarms ringing in the dorm. A heavy sleeper, and even more difficult to get out of bed, Albus buried himself deeper in his sheets and settled back into the blissful darkness that was sleep.

He was drifting back into his dreams of swimming with mermaids when something soft and heavy thumped over his stomach, successfully ripping the pleasant dream from his head and sending a wave of annoyance to the raven head.

"Get up you log," his roommate Goyle grouched. Albus peered blearily from under his tent of tangled sheets at his two roommates. Goyle was already leaving for the bathroom while the other, Phineas Goldstein ignored the exchange and got dressed for class, not caring to dry out his hair from his shower. Phineas was an early bird, and almost frighteningly quiet. Albus rarely ever talked to him, but he was a good deal more pleasant than Goyle.

Reluctantly getting out of bed, Albus glanced at the clock on his night stand. It was a replica of a muggle radio clock, but with the ability to work under magical environments. A gift from his grandfather.

It was six thirty.

He had class a seven.

Swearing under his breath, Albus quickly got dressed and gathered his books. Leave it to Goyle to wait until the last minute to wake him up and make him skip his shower. The overbearing monster.

Without a second glance, Albus trudged out of the dorm. Today was sure to be unpleasant.

…

Breakfast was uneventful and breezed by without much commotion. Transfigurations was the same as ever, and so was Charms and Potions. It was a Thursday, the most hated day in all a Hogwarts student's mind. Thursday wasn't Friday, it promised one more painful day of waking up before the crack of dawn, and hours of boring classes with droning teachers and dreadful assignments.

Scorpius stared out the window of his History of Magic classroom. The dreary weather hadn't let up, and faint strings of lightening were starting to appear in the storm clouds that had yet to let up the rain. The blond let out a sigh, even he would have risked going outside just so that he wouldn't have to put up with the historical nonsense his ghost of a professor was vomiting.

Thunder clapped across the land, bringing in a bit of excitement in Scorpius's boring day. So far nothing strange happened, but he couldn't shake off the sense that it would. He almost wished it did happen, or he'd fall asleep halfway through the day.

Another stronger branch of lightening lit up the school grounds, giving the Gryffindor a brief glimpse of the quidditch stadium.

He narrowed his eyes bitterly, unwillingly recalling memories of trying out for the team. He was inspired by the stories his father told him when he was younger. Of the games against Harry Potter, and seeing the World Cup. Scorpius was desperate to try and make a few stories himself.

Ever since his first year he'd been trying out for the Gryffindor team in the hopes that he'd get in at whatever position they wished to give him. He considered himself versatile enough to play any role. He had eyes as sharp as a seeker, reflexes of a keeper, strength of a beater, and sharpness of a chaser, he was sure he would be a good asset to the team.

But nothing. No matter how much he tried or worked to improve his skills, they always rejected him. They only said it once in his first year, and he knew it was that same reason they pushed him away in the following five years.

He was a Malfoy. And Malfoy's held no place in the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Scorpius looked down at his notes, remembering his latest rejection by the new captain, Hugo Weasley, the youngest captain since the infamous Oliver Wood. The boy had a passion for quidditch, there was no doubt in that. But he was also one to easily crumble under the expectations of admirers. Hugo's promotion to captaincy came at the price of committing to the favors of his friends, which in effect meant total rejection of Scorpius.

The blond glared into his notes, having stopped long ago as his grudge on the boy reawakened. It was silly of him to assume for humble Hugo to accept him into the team. Of course he was easily influenced by his friends' nasty desires to make Scorpius suffer another rejection. The bastard. And he thought he knew him too…

He turned back to the storm on the brink of starting. His reflection in the window showing a sixteen year old pale teen with hair that had long ago forgotten to be combed, a thin pointed face so similar to his father's minus the sneer the man always carried. He was thin, but not sickly, lean, but not by much. He was ordinary.

Scorpius looked at the reflection of his tie wrapped loosely around his neck. The colors red and gold glaring back at him, confirming the proud and courageous house he belonged to.

A house that detested him.

Not for the first time, Scorpius found himself wondering where he truly belonged.

…

Thunder roared across the castle, yet still the clouds had not given up a drop of water. Albus stared out the window of his Charms class. He doubted he'd be having Care of Magical Creatures with this horrid weather.

Then again Hagrid would call this mere drizzle.

An elbow nudged him in the ribs, pulling him out of his daydreams to glare at his cousin and best friend. She was glaring back disapprovingly while at the same time taking notes at break neck speed. A talent that always amused and terrified Albus.

Sighing, the Slytherin turned his attention to the front of the class where his professor was busily demonstrating elemental manipulation by making water turn different shapes in the air.

Albus sighed again, reluctantly taking notes. His mind wasn't on class anymore though. What he wanted was a nice nap under the warm comforts of his bed. Or a hot cup of cocoa by the fire. Perhaps a stroll in the castle grounds. Anything but spending an hour more of learning about spells he probably wouldn't be using in the future.

Not too long after jotting down a few scant words that would later make no sense to him, Albus turned back to the window.

It had gotten darker, and yet it was still only one in the afternoon. After the boring day, he started considering running outside at the risk of getting hit by lightening. Hell, he'd even hold a metal rod to make the risks greater!

A particularly large arm of lightening clawed its way through the sky, lighting up the other side of the castle that had been blocked by the darkness and fog.

In the short second he got of the other side, he could see a blond head looking wistfully out of his own window. There were several other windows to be distracted by; Albus wondered faintly why it had to be this one that he noticed.

He, as well as every other person in Hogwarts, knew this pointy faced blond.

Scorpius Malfoy.

He was already famous before coming to Hogwarts, and even more so after his sorting into Gryffindor. Albus would never forget that day, nor the admiration he felt for the boy after walking calmly towards the table that loudly tried to throw him out. He'd always wondered how such a person could survive six years of being surrounded by people who hated him.

But then he survived Slytherin so far, so that was a mystery as well. He was lucky the Slytherins weren't as mean to him as the Gryffindors were to the Malfoy.

If anything, the Slytherins were more confused than angry.

Albus's eyes drifted back to his notes. The following days after the sorting weren't the happiest. He sent his letter to his parents like he promised, and they seemed fine with his placement in Slytherin. It was only when he came home for the holidays that he noticed how startled they really were, though they tried to hide it.

It didn't bother him. Not really.

Seconds after the huge wad of lightening, thunder crashed across the skies, momentarily drowning Flitwick's lecture.

"Good heavens, what a storm," the tiny professor noted calmly.

…

Nothing strange happened at all. The clouds had finally freed its prisoner, but instead of rain, they got hail. Lots of it. The size of bludgers.

The school had been forbidden to go outside. The courtyard was also off limits. But as Scorpius dragged his feet to dinner, he couldn't stop the sense of adventure that gripped him. He was always terrible at following the rules. It was probably half the reason why no one made an effort to befriend him, trouble always followed.

So instead of heading towards the great hall, Scorpius took a detour to the Astronomy tower. He may not have been allowed into the quidditch team, that didn't mean he couldn't play around a bit.

Mindful of skirting around the professors that roamed the corridors, Scorpius turned the corner to the last corridor…

And slammed right into a thin and curvy body.

Both fell to the floor in a tumble, books and parchments flying everywhere. Scorpius looked down at the unfortunate person and realized it was Ravenclaw's sharpest student, Rose Weasley. Sister to Hugo Weasley, the very boy Scorpius currently hated.

"Sorry," he said lamely, crawling away and helping the girl gather her things. The red head huffed and accepted his help, neatly stuffing her books in her bag.

"Ever watch where you're going?" she said irritably.

"Not really," the blond answered honestly, helping her up once the mess was cleaned. Rose looked up at him uneasily as he let go of her hand, probably realizing just who she'd knocked into. Scorpius didn't even wince, having been used to such stares. "Well, later," he waved her off and continued his trek to the tower.

He didn't get very far. Rose wasn't alone; her Ravenclaw friends blocked his path, all glaring at him like hawks.

"How dare you?" one of them hissed.

"Yeah, you did that on purpose," another took a step up to him. His height much taller than the Gryffindor's. Not for the first time Scorpius cursed his luck in getting his father's genes regarding height. "Apologize properly."

"You've got to be joking," Scorpius said flatly, "it was an accident, I already apologized."

"What's going on?"

Everyone turned to the new voice. Albus joined the group, looking from the Ravenclaws to Scorpius, and to his cousin.

"Malfoy purposefully knocked Rose over," the first reported quickly.

"The slimy git," added another.

"Please," Scorpius scoffed, "I said it was an accident, now move," he tried to walk past the group, but they remained firmly in place.

"Rose?" Albus looked to his cousin who shrugged.

"Yes, it was an accident, he even helped me gather my things when I dropped them," she replied, before frowning at her friends, "leave him alone, he did nothing wrong."

Grudgingly, the group stepped aside. Scorpius threw the cousins a grin before going onto his destination.

Albus stared after the blond with confusion, a sense of nostalgia hitting him.

It didn't matter. The next second, Rose was pulling him towards the great hall for dinner.

…

Except right after, he started thinking about it again.

Perhaps it was the meager dinner that looked and should have been delicious, or the usual lack of conversation among his fellow Slytherins that did it.

It could have been the shitty weather. The slow day. The fact that it was a Thursday. The brief moment he saw him from across the castle.

But he was curious.

He remembered that grin. Up until now he couldn't understand the emotions behind it. But today…today he was able to discern at least one aspect of it.

Pure and absolute sadness.

It was a strange mixture with the wild grey eyes that glittered back at him. More than strange, it shouldn't be mixed because to Albus…

It gave him a sense of loneliness.

He looked across the great hall to the Gryffindor table. As usual they were boisterous and happy, but there was no sign of the blond. He hadn't come back from wherever he ran off to, wasn't he hungry?

He had to have been. Dinner didn't start until a few minutes after he and Rose arrived.

So where was he?

Albus couldn't help it. The curiosity was clawing away at him, and for someone he only talked to for one day in his _first year_. The only reason he hadn't completely forgotten about him was because he was a Malfoy.

An oddly nice one too.

Albus frowned down at his plate of chicken. The more he thought of that grin, the less appetite he had to finish his plate.

"Not hungry?" Phineas asked quietly from across the table. Albus shook his head, pushing the plate away from him. "That's a waste of food."

The raven head shrugged before a thought struck him. Gathering as many napkins as he could, he piled the contents of his plate onto them, wrapped it and stuffed it in his bag; earning many disgusted looks6 from those around him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" one of them sneered.

"Nothing," Albus muttered, leaving the table, gaining even more weird looks.

He left the great hall and marched off to where he last saw Scorpius. It was only when he got there that he realized exactly what he was doing, and how ridiculous it was of him.

He looked at the stairs leading up to the astronomy tower. A place famous for couples to retreat to. It hadn't come across Albus's mind until now that Scorpius was probably rushing earlier to meet with his girlfriend.

Of course, his next thought was who in their right mind would date Scorpius Malfoy?

Or maybe that sad grin was a sign that he wanted to be left alone?

Albus looked down at his bag. What to do…

He couldn't explain it. But there was an indescribable urge to see the blond. An old nostalgic feeling of friendship that hadn't been given the chance to mature after their sorting ceremony, and was only now reemerging from years of slumber.

Why now though?

He walked up the stone steps, mind caught between moving forward or going back. He dearly hoped he was wrong in assuming Scorpius would be in the astronomy tower, and he'd instead retired to Gryffindor tower.

Or that he wasn't up there with his girlfriend.

Albus reached the door, which had been left ajar. He hesitantly opened it and stepped inside, wincing at the loud creak of the protesting hinges. The room was empty and dark save for an open window and hastily thrown robes on the verge of slipping off a desk.

The Slytherin crept to the robes, recognizing the red and gold crescent of Gryffindor as another flicker of lightening lit up the room.

Hail was tumbling into the room, along with the endless shower of rain. Albus moved to shut the window when something caught his eye.

There was someone on the roof.

Albus blinked several times. Surely he was imagining things.

There was a young man standing on a dangerous part of the roof, very close to slipping over the edge and falling to his death several stories below. His blond hair was matted down and darkened by the rain, his soaked white shirt slipping off his shoulders, and several bruises and cuts decorating his skin. It was like looking at a picture of a man wailing to the sky.

Then the next second, as a large block of ice careened towards him, he spun around and hit it away with a bat Albus hadn't noticed he'd been holding. The movement though, sent a tremor of absolute fear up the raven head's spine. The boy was a hair away from really falling. He swayed his bat again, hitting another piece of ice.

Albus's blood ran cold. He clutched at the ledge of the window. "Hey!" he called out to the boy, "Hey! What're you doing!"

The blond didn't respond, showing no sign of surprise, or awareness that he was no longer alone. Biting his lip, Albus hopped out of window and ran over to the teen, mindful of slipping off into the abyss.

"Hey!" he yelled again, reaching out for his arm.

Startled, as anyone would be, the boy whipped around to face him. Steel gray eye met wide emerald green. Albus froze on the spot.

Scorpius Malfoy.

"Get back inside, it's dangerous out here," the blond yelled over the rain.

Albus flared up, shock momentarily forgotten. "You're one to talk, you're coming inside too!" He grabbed his arm and proceeded to drag him back inside the tower.

Something hard hit him on the shoulder, making him almost fall off the edge. Another block of ice smashed over the side of his head. Grunting in pain, Albus pulled harder at Scorpius's arm, straining to get back inside the tower lest he get hit by more clumps of hail.

"You've got to be kidding me," he heard Scorpius complain, struggling to break free of the Slytherin.

Once his foot hit the edge of the window, he tripped and fell inside, Scorpius falling over him in a sopping wet mess. Their crash into the tower shook the room into releasing a few glass vials from their shelves, shattering on the floor and releasing a rainbow of smells and colors.

Coughing from the vast array of aromas, Albus scrambled to get the Gryffindor off him. Huffing, Scorpius stood up, whipping his head back to get his hair off his face. He pulled out his wand and proceeded to dry himself, unfazed over getting 'rescued' by the Slytherin. If anything, he seemed a little annoyed.

"What on Dumbledore's grave were you doing out there?" Albus blurted out angrily, "do you realize you could have fallen!"

"I had my wand with me, I would have been fine," Scorpius said, affronted. "I was just having some harmless fun – "

"_Harmless!_" Albus screeched, "you were swinging a bat around while standing on the edge of the roof, I would hardly call that _harmless!_"

Scropius took a step back under his tirade, eyes wide in shock. He hadn't expected to get yelled at by quiet little Albus Potter. "I had everything under control," he mumbled, feeling strangely sheepish the way a child would after their mother caught them stealing cookies before dinner. "No need to get so angry…"

Albus's cheeks were flushed pink in both fury and from the cold of the rain. He glared at the blond, not understanding how one could consider standing at the edge of the roof harmless. The boy was insane. "What were you doing out there anyway? Even if you didn't fall, you could have caught pneumonia or something."

Scorpius wasn't sure if he should answer, getting the feeling he would get yelled at anyway. So he chose to answer with a question. "What were you doing here? It's dinner time, and this place is not exactly ideal to hang out – what with all the rumors about couples and – "

"I asked you first," Albus cut in sharply.

Damn.

The Gryffindor rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I wanted to do some exercising with the hail…by pretending they were bludgers…."

One of Albus's eyes were bugging out in that 'I just witnessed something weird' look. He obviously didn't believe him. "Bullocks." Yep. He was right.

"No, I was, see?" Scorpius held up his beater's bat as proof.

He couldn't say anything to that. Albus kept tightlipped, close to admitting that he thought Scorpius had been about to jump to his death. But who in their right mind would play beater in the middle of a hail storm on top of a roof?

"You…have…issues," Albus said slowly, not quite sure what else to say that would seem nicer. Scorpius didn't take offense and merely shrugged.

"So what were you doing here?" he asked.

Albus turned red in embarrassment, remembering his earlier intention of finding Scorpius, which he now realized was entirely ridiculous.

"Oh," now Scorpius's cheeks were turning pink, "were you meeting your girlfriend here? I'm sorry, I'll just be going, sorry about that," he laughed sheepishly and headed toward the door.

"What? I don't have a girlfriend," Albus blurted out with a confused frown. Scorpius stopped short and now looked really embarrassed.

"Sorry, is it a boyfriend? I honestly had no idea – "

"No it's not a boyfriend!" Albus said shrilly, face turning red again, "I came here looking for you!"

Scorpius fell silent, completely stunned. "Wh-what you were you looking for me for?"

Still red in the face, Albus grumpily fished out the food from his bag and shoved it in the blond's hands, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "I thought you'd be hungry," he grumbled, "you skipped dinner."

The Gryffindor didn't answer, looking at the little bag in his hand as if he weren't sure it were real. "I…uh…thanks….you didn't need to do that. Really."

And Albus realized he really didn't, and for a total stranger. It didn't strike him until now that Scorpius could have easily gone to the kitchens later, which only made his little act more stupid.

"You seemed kind of sad," he slipped, recalling the brief moment by the window, and that lonely grin in the corridor, "I figured you needed some cheering up…" Oh god that sounded terrible.

"I sheem' shad?"

Blanching, Albus looked to the blond and realized he'd been eating happily the whole time, a bit of chicken sticking out of his mouth. It was very un-Malfoy of him and Albus was struck again by the curiosity he felt six years ago when he first met the Gryffindor.

"You're not what I expected," Albus said, unable to stop his upper lip from curling in disgust over Scorpius's blatant display of stuffing himself silly. It vaguely reminded him of his uncle Ron.

"Wha' d'you mea'?" he asked, not looking away from the little pile of food in his hand. Apparently he was really hungry; Albus was starting to feel guilty that he didn't save him more.

"You're just…different," he shrugged, trying to find the right word, "you're nothing like your father – what?" he flinched when the blond turned sharply to him with a fierce glare.

"There's nothing wrong with my father," he said heatedly.

"That's not what I meant!" Albus paled, eyes wide. He took a few steps back, startled by the sudden change of character, "I'm just saying that from the stories my father told me when they went to school together, I'm not trying to insult you're father, honestly!"

Swallowing the last of his food and banishing the napkin after wiping his mouth, Scorpius eyed the Slytherin suspiciously. "What does your dad say about my father?"

Albus scrambled to pick his words carefully. "He just told me he was…a man who had strong opinions about certain…things…and…he was just hard to approach…?"

The blond considered this thoughtfully as Albus quaked under his gaze. "I suppose he used to be like that, even my father admits it…but he's not like that anymore, you couldn't match him up to the same person you're father talks of." Albus still seemed a little terrified. Scorpius smiled apologetically, "sorry I snapped, I don't take insults to my parents lightly."

Albus nodded numbly. Yes, Scorpius was very different.

"You're a surprise too," the Gryffindor grinned cheekily, "a Potter approaching a Malfoy, I like you," he clapped him on the shoulder goodheartedly.

Rubbing the soreness out of his shoulder, Albus decided that he liked Scorpius too. Maybe it wasn't too late to rekindle their friendship after all.


End file.
